


Ink Stripes

by Kt_fairy



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anxiety, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Shock, Slow Burn, body image issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-20 11:24:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9488900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kt_fairy/pseuds/Kt_fairy
Summary: "Derek nodded mutely, looking right past Chris' smiling face to strong, broad shoulders working under soft blue plaid, sleeves pushed out of the way so strong freckled forearms were on display, nimble hands working to roll out pastry.He had been around a lot of sports-persons in his life, Ice Hockey and Skiing in the winter, Field-Hocky in the summer as well as Badminton and Swimming, so muscular bodies weren’t that much of a novelty, and he had never had a problem keeping his eyes to himself in showers and locker-rooms. But some kid from Maine puts on a worn button up and it’s like he’s never seen a hot boy before."ORFive times Nursey struggles with Dex looking fine as fuck, and one time Dex struggles.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to [ this](http://birkheartz.tumblr.com/post/146951831261/can-we-talk-about-mechanicdex-and-everyone-coming) tumblr post for kicking this all off.

 

 

**1**

 

“...Well done today gentlemen, put in lots of hard work, we appreciate it. Now get along, hit the showers and have a good day.” There was a chorus of stick tapping and groaning as those kneeling pulled themselves up from the ice, chatter starting up as everyone made their way to the locker room.

 Derek glanced up, waiting for whoever was skating near him to pass before he stood. He was not usually as graceless on the ice as he was off it but nerves and the new team of near strangers had him colliding with the goal, the other defence men, and trip over sticks enough times to almost give him a reputation as a klutz - something he would prefer to leave firmly behind him at Andover. So no standing up and knocking someone on their ass today, thank you.

 It was Poindexter moving past him, the rangy, aggressive way he skated obvious even after the few weeks they had grudgingly known one another. He was fiddling with his helmet, dipping his head so he could tip it off into a glove, huffing a breath as he stretched his neck out, the tendons standing out underneath the gentle line of his jaw. The exertion of the hard practise had put a healthy pink on his face, the effect so much different from the furious or embarrassed reds he would go whenever he spoke (argued) with Derek. His usually painfully neat hair was curled with sweat and darker than usual, amber eyes bright in the morning light of Faber and looking the most serene Derek had ever seen him.

 It only lasted a second, maybe two, as long as it took for Poindexter to glide past him, but Derek felt like the image had been burnt onto his retinas, blinking at the vague reflection of himself in the glass.

 Poindexter was hot.

 No - Poindexter was beautiful.

 

 Fuck.

                                                                       

                                                                                      _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ 

 

**2**

  
 That Derek was late was not a surprise. He was always on time for classes and practice, always had been, but everything else - not so much. He was only human, Derek reasoned, and it added character.

 It had the added bonus that he always walked into things when they were in full swing, everyone always pleased to see him as he threw himself right into the centre of what was going on. Like today, walking into the Haus when it was warm and loud and full of the smell of good food. Really good food.

 Thanksgiving wasn’t something they really did at home, being thankful for things was not something his parents restrained to just one time of year, and having Ojibwa relatives kind of made the whole thing feel a bit...gross? But this was Hausgiving, with his team, and Shitty had given a ten minute talk about the problematic nature of the holiday, so he knew it would hopefully be less awkward than some of the well meaning stuff they had done at Andover.

“Is that Nursey?” He heard Chris call from the kitchen as he was being sucked into a sartorial conversation with Ransom and Holster that involved a lot of yelling by Holster as he was ganged up on about his terrible turkey print stretchy pants. “Nursey come here!”

“Brah why do you need me?” He asked as he strolled into the kitchen, jumping back as Jack bustled past him wearing an apron and carrying a huge pan full of potatoes. “S’up man?”

“Mash duty.” He said with a small smile, hefting it onto the cooker.

“Oh Nursey you’re finally here!” Bitty’s gushed, waving from the far side of the table that seemed to be covered mostly in flour and pecans. “The frogs are making a pie, how’d y’all like to help?”

 Derek nodded mutely, looking right past Chris' smiling face to strong, broad shoulders working under soft blue plaid, sleeves pushed out of the way so strong freckled forearms were on display, nimble hands working to roll out pastry.

 He had been around a lot of sports-persons in his life - Ice Hockey and Skiing in the winter, Field-Hocky in the summer as well as Badminton and Swimming - so muscular bodies weren’t that much of a novelty, and he had never had a problem keeping his eyes to himself in showers and locker-rooms. But some kid from Maine puts on a worn button up and it’s like he’s never seen a hot boy before.

“What?” He said, looking up into Dex’s face, not hearing the question he'd just been asked.

“I said you wanna go at rolling?” Dex repeated, his usually irritated tone slightly softened, frown only just starting to pinch at his annoying, pretty face.

“Sure.” He stepped around Chris, slipping the rolling pin from Dex’s hands and testing the weight. “Wanna show me the ropes?”

“It’s rolling pastry out it’s not hard.” Dex snapped automatically, glanced over at where Bitty was standing before clearing his throat, the tip of his ears turning pink, and motioned towards the slightly lopsided oval of yellow pastry in front of them. “Don’t put on solid pressure, just in the pushing motion. Less so in the pulling. An’ don’t push too hard...yeah like that. It needs to be about three inches bigger.” He stood to the side and watched Derek. “Let the pin run through your grip. Perfect.”

 His voice was softer than Derek had ever heard it directed at him, instructions clear and calm, only praise, and it gave Derek a weird warm feeling.

 It was the most friendly they had ever been and they were mostly silent, Derek checking he was doing things right and Dex muttering over the recipe it seemed Bitty had left up to him, hands on his hips and doing his best to distract Derek with how the fabric of his shirt pulled over his chest and biceps, C keeping up a stream of chatter as he bounced between them and helping Bitty with the rolls and cranberry sauce.

 Derek found himself leaning with his elbow on the counter, realising later on he’d leant right in a spill of something sticky, cheek on his fist, watching Dex place pecans on the top of the pie with meticulous precision, making perfect concentric circles. His face was set in concentration, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, freckled nose scrunching every so often for reasons Derek thought wonderful because he could not identify them.

“Wow! That looks so great!!” C gasped as they all stood to watch Dex carefully take the pie from the oven, holding it out in front of him for Bitty to look at.

“Oh honey that looks amazing I cannot wait to eat it!” Bitty enthused, reaching up to knock Dex’s chin when his ears flushed. “Come on, come on, picture time!”

 The Haus kitchen wasn’t that big, and with four huge and one average sized Hockey bro in it it was a bit cramped so Derek pushed himself along Dex’s side, ruffling his hair for some mad sugar induced reason, trying not to notice how soft it was or how crazy solid Dex was. Or how cute he looked with his usually neat hair a bit ruffled and face all bashful.

“Nice shirt by the way Poindexter.” He said as they made their way into the den to get out of the way of the last minute whirlwind of food prep.

“Fuck off.” He snapped defensively.

“Okay. Way to take a compliment.”

“Oh.” Dex looked down at himself, smoothing his hand down his tie self-consciously. “Thanks. It’s um…” He blushed. “It’s my best one.”

“It suits you.” Dex’s blush got even darker and he genuinely looked like he didn’t know what to do for a moment. “Yeah bro you’re lookin’ good. Look at me I got fucking cranberry on my arm and dinner hasn’t even started yet.”

Dex rolled his eyes, about to say something but Ollie slung an arm around his shoulders and shoved beer at them both, dragging them into the party.

 

 

        _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ 

**3**

 

 Getting up early for practise was never easy. Derek swore his whole body ached with the effort of it, bleary eyed from the point he stumbled into Faber until he put on his skates. The feeling of the laces pulling against his palms and the tug against his feet as the boots tightened, his thighs and core muscles working to walk on the thin blades until he hit the ice, the cold nipping pleasantly at his face, whole body working to try and do whatever Coach Hall wanted of him, to try and keep up with Bitty, helplessly in sync with Dex.

 Afterwards, skates off, clothes soft against his freshly washed skin, walking as part of the pack towards the dining hall for breakfast the sleepiness crept back in, aches from practice starting up, the rush of endorphin's slipping away.

 He yawned loudly as he stood waiting for the milk, scrubbing a hand through his hair and then teasing it back into place, catching rich brown eyes checking out the swell of his arm and the slip of stomach as his sweater rode up. “Milk?” The girl asked, voice as rich as her eyes, offering the jug, shooting him a lovely smile so a dimple appeared on her cheek.

“Yeah, thanks.” He took it off her, her fingers lingering to brush against his, and smiled back.

“So you’re on the Hockey team?” She asked as he drenched his mountain of cereal.

“Guilty.” He grinned at her.

“You’re one of the D-men aren’t you? Second line?”

“Yeah I am, you come to the games?”

“When I have the time, and only home games. Not a very good fan I know…”

“No, no, all support is appreciated. Honestly.”

 She smiled beautifully up at him, tucking her long black hair behind her ear. “I’ll cheer extra loud next time I’m at a game.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see you at the Kegster this weekend?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Cool. I’m Rhianne by the way.”

“Derek. Nurse. Number 28.”

“Keep my eye out for you.” She smiled at him again and slowly walked away, glancing at him over her shoulder once more before joining her friends.

 Derek looked down at his cereal, shaking his head to himself before setting off to the table near the window where Dex and C had settled in. It was not like people threw themselves at him everywhere he went, but he was hot and artsy and it was never that hard to get someone to notice him if they were so inclined. It was always nice to get flirted with gently like that.

 He was thinking about her dimple and her lovely thick, shiny black hair, when his eyes fell on Dex. He was sat with his back to him, waving a knife around as he said something to C that made him smile (not hard), elbows tucked into his side as he ate (big family), his collar pulled down slightly at the back so Derek could see all of his long, pale, freckled neck. Because the universe hated him the bright morning sunshine was slanting right across him, catching the sprinkle of blonde amongst his freshly washed, slightly fluffy red hair.

 Derek, being Derek, got so fascinated by all the colours in Dex’s hair that he bumped into someone. As he staggered he managed to get out a “Yo!” he would never live down before pretty much all his breakfast landed on Dex.

 C shrieked, leaping back with the reactions of a goalie and everyone around them went deadly silent, Derek looking in horror as Dex sat frozen, shoulders up around his ears as ice cold milk dripped from his hair that was covered, somewhat ironically, in Lucky Charms.

“Bro. Seriously?” Lardo said into the silence from the next table along, Bitty leaping up from where he was sat next to Jack and flying off to grab a pile of napkins.

 Very slowly Dex stood, turning as he did until he faced Derek, one eye closed as milk was running into it from his fringe, mouth set into a grim line, very rapidly turning a furious red. It was only Bitty rushing between them and attempting to mop up the milk with a napkin that saved Derek from a very short, very brutal death.

“It’s only milk, easily washed out!” Bitty was saying with forced cheerfulness, cleaning getting more desperate as Dex remained silent, still glaring at Derek but with both eyes now which made it even worse.

“I have class in twenty minutes.” Dex finally ground out, not even breaking eye contact with Derek as Jack stepped up to them.

“We’ll sort it out Dex, don’t worry, eh? Faber is just around the corner you can clean up there, I’ll run to your dorm and get you a change of shirt and pick you up something you can eat on the way to class.” Jack said gently, touching Dex on his arm just below where the milk was.

 Dex nodded, finally breaking eye contact as he turned to grab his backpack and Derek had a horrible feeling that he had let Dex down. I mean, he had dumped a bowl of cereal over him, but something in the way Dex had turned away made Derek think he had been given a chance to make it up to him and let it pass.

“Hold on.” Derek yanked his sweater off, tugging down at the back of his button up as he held the sweater out to Dex who was looking at it like Derek had pulled off his own arm to give to him. “Take it, s’my fault anyway. Not paying attention. I’m sorry Dex.”

 Dex narrowed his eyes for a second and then took it off him, holding it at arm's length to keep it clean. “Thanks Nurse, you fucking disaster.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

 Dex didn’t say it was okay, but he had stopped glaring as Jack walked with him out of the dining hall, Derek watching him go and feeling utterly fucking terrible.

“I can’t believe he didn’t kill you.” C said softly, gazing in awe at where Dex had been. 

 Derek groaned, sitting down heavily in Dex's empty seat, taking some of the napkins off Bitty to begin cleaning up the table. A strong hand squeezed his shoulder and he glanced up at Bitty who was looking at him with a mixture of exasperation and sympathy. “I’m fucked Bits. Totally fucked. Broke the cardinal rule.”

 Bitty looked confused for a moment and then understanding dawned on his face that quickly crumpled into sympathy, Derek looking away because he didn’t want to need it.

“Oh Nursey!”

“I know.”

 

                                                                                       _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ 

 

**4.**

 

 Derek had been trying, not very hard, to get through his ecology assignment. It was mostly done and he just needed to pass the class for his science credit but it was a matter of pride as an English major to get good grades in a science. Fuck the educational hierarchy!

 It didn’t help that Chris had been ooonnnn at him to come hang out at the Haus and study together. They would end up eating pretzels and chatting shit which was very much not studying. But eating pretzels and chatting shit also sounded amazing so he shoved his laptop in his bag, left his books because there was a limit to how much he could lie to himself about getting work done, and hustled before his suite-mates could catch him dodging his assignment.

 He knew something was up when he turned onto frat row and saw more vehicles than usual parked on the Haus drive and a suspicious amount of bros on the LAX porch. As he got closer he saw there were a couple of girls from the sorority next door and who he recognised as the goalie of the soccer team standing amongst the cars being entertained by Ransom's chatter.

 The hoods of the cars being popped should have been enough of a warning for him to do a smart about turn and head back, pretzels and chatting shit forgotten, but he was too busy thinking of something witty to say to the little gathering to realise what this meant.

 Ransom made a joke and the girls moved in closer to him, revealing Dex leaning over the engine of Ransom’s pristine white Ford, t-shirt held in one of the hands bracing himself on the bodywork, every muscle in his long freckled arms on display right up to the tilt of his shoulders, his long muscular back dipping down until it met the swell of his ass pushing against the fabric of his overalls that he had pushed down to his hips.

 He stood, rubbing the back of a hand at his forehead as he readjusted his backwards snapback, cocking his hip as he leant on the car to say something to Ransom, gesturing with a wrench, a smear of grease on his chin, another very low down on the cut of his hip, so low down in fact the riot of freckles all over his abs had almost faded to nothing.

 That was when Derek realised he was falling and next thing he knew he was face down on the pavement, hands scuffed and breath knocked out of him.

“Holy shit dude are you okay dude?” The goalie asked, running over with Ransom to help him up while he could hear Dex cussing out the LAX bros laughing at him.

“Yeah, yeah, must’ve tripped over myself.”

“Fucking hell Nurse try not to break something before the end of regular season. Please. Fuck.” Ransom tried not to lecture, checking him for concussion.

“I didn’t hit my head.”

“Don’t need to hit your head to get concussion, dude.”

“Yeah man, I got it once landing from catching a ball. Gotta be super careful.”

“Urgh, ’m embarrassed more than anything”

“Was a pretty impressive stack dude not gonna lie.”

“Why is there a fucking crowd anyway?” He asked, pulling his face out of Ransom’s grip to glare across at the LAX bros. When he didn’t get an answer he turned back to see the goalie trying not to smile and Ransom giving him his patented ‘Holster You Idiot’ look. “What?”

“Probably the same reason you fell over.”

“...oh.”

 Ransom shook his head at him and gave him a clean bill of health with a warning to come get him if he started feeling weird, arm slung over his shoulder as he walked him over to the impromptu garage.

“This is Derek Nurse. He stays upright better on the ice.” Ransom introduced him and the girls laughed.

“Fuck dude, watch yourself.” Dex gushed, making like he was going to go to Derek but then thinking better of it.

“The shock of seeing you fixing things brah, knocked me clean out.”

“Oh haha! Dude your hands.” Dex placed the wrench on the engine block and took Derek’s hands in his with surprising gentleness. His hands were covered in sputs and smears of dirt and grease, in fact Derek could smell it on him over the top of the scent of fresh clean sweat, but they were warm, skin smooth between the calluses, thumbs softly swiping over the tender, faintly bleeding flesh of his palms.

 Derek could feel his heart beating like a frightened bird as a sweat broke out on his back, using all his strength not to lean into Dex, not to touch, not to ask him to dig his nails into Derek’s palms and bite at his mouth.

“You should go and wash these right away, there must be some antiseptic in the house or something.”

 Derek looked up from their hands to Dex’s face, stopping his breath shuddering at the concern in his honeyed eyes, stopping himself wiping the smear of grease off his chin, stopping himself kissing a bony wrist.

 Dex blinked at him and Derek knew some of that must have shown on his face. He cleared his throat, letting Dex let his hands go as Ransom guided him up to the Haus.

 He glanced over his shoulder as they got to the porch, spotting Dex hold his cap up to run a hand through his hair and probably getting streaks of grease in it, smiling crookedly at something one of the girls was saying to him.

 Derek looked forward sharply and followed Ransom into the kitchen.

   

 Fuck.

 

                                                                                      _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ 

 

**5.**

 

“Seriously, you see their Zamboni driver? She was cute as fuuuuck.”

“You gonna move up here for her, Wicks?” Ollie threw over his shoulder as they waddled onto the bus.

“Nah man, fuck Dartmouth. I’ll just have to become the most dashing Zamboni driver in the NHL.”

“You could just, like, look her up man.” Derek called from the back of the little group, smiling when Wicks looked at him like he was mad.

“That’s just a depressing lack of romance for a poet. De-pRESSing.” Wicks sighed like it was a great disappointment, cuffing at Derek’s hat as he slid into his seat next to Ollie.

“Romantic is not what I’d call your plan.” Bitty said, trying not to smile as Wicks whipped around to give him a hurt look.

“How could you of all people do this to me, Bitty?”

 Derek passed them, shuffling down the aisle to where Dex was sat in their usual spot, hunkered down in his zipped up SMH jacket. They shuffled around to let Derek slip into the window seat, huffing loudly as he dropped back down next to him.

“S’up?”

“Nothing. Cold.”

 Derek looked at him in surprise, it wasn’t cold out at all, and noted with a jolt how ashen he looked.

 Dex had gotten to his feet a little slower than usual after being slammed into the boards by the very pissed off Centre who had missed three shots on goal because of him. He had insisted he was fine when asked and skated the rest of the third period with a little bit more caution than usual, had been a little quiet in the dressing room afterwards but they were all tired, it had been a long weekend.

 Derek searched through his backpack and found the Reese’s bar he kept in there for emergencies. He dusted off a bit of the lint from the wrapper and held it out to Dex who squinted at it for a moment. _That_ a sure sign he had a headache coming on so Derek shoved his water-bottle at him as well.

“M’not hungry.”

“Dex.”

“I said I’m not hungry.”

“Will.” Derek tried again and Dex huffed, looking at the bar before taking it from him.

 He watched him eating it slowly, not bringing up the very slight tremble of Dex’s hand when he raised it to his mouth and accepted the piece handed to him silently. The only sounds were the hum of the engine and the faint sounds of Holster’s music with Bitty talking over it as Derek watched the faint flush of colour return to Dex's cheeks, the shake in his hands gradually subsiding.

 The bus had started moving while Dex was eating, the faint glow of the small town flashing over Dex, washing him out as blue darkness collected in his eye sockets and under his cheekbones before warm lights shifted over him and chased them away.

“You warmed up a bit now?” Derek asked quietly, resting the back of his hand on Dex’s arm.

“A bit.”

“You want my jacket?”

 Dex looked at the back of C’s chair like he had not heard, sipping quietly from the water bottle. Derek was going to leave it and get some work done when Dex looked over at him, Derek hating how much he would like to kiss him right now. “Please.” He said so quietly, hesitantly, like he was unused to accepting help.

 Derek pushed down the little bubble of emotion rushing up his throat and struggled out of his jacket, trying not to smack the window or Dex's face, shaking it out slightly before laying it over him.

 Ten minuets later Dex was laid out across the bus, feet up on the empty seat diagonally across from them, warm against Derek’s side with his hair brushing his cheek, steady warm breaths almost sending Derek into his meditative zone.

 He looked out at the freeway for a while, he could not concentrate on the Rumi he had brought with him, and the bus steadily went silent around him.

 The fabric of his sweater rucked up as he sunk down in his seat, angling so he was leaning against the window and stretched his legs out in the space left by Dex, lifting his arm so Dex’s solid weight could slide against him. He took one last look at Dex’s fringe slipping over his forehead, the softness that descended on his face when the world was not bothering him, before he slipped his eyes closed.

 

 In the sleepy stagger from the bus early the next morning things must have gotten mixed up because Derek stomped out of his lecture to find Dex leaning against the wall wearing a slightly baggy number 28 SMH jacket, causing a bit of a bottleneck as word went around that he was the hot mechanic guy whose picture was all over SMH social media. Derek stopped in his tracks and blinked at him, something warm settling in his gut at the sight not only Dex in his clothes but Dex wearing his number, stumbling forward when someone walked into his back.

 Dex was scrolling through something on his phone, a slight pinch between his brows, beanie pulled down over his ears so a few flashes of red framed his face, long legs crossed at the ankle and worn jeans pulled tight over his thighs.

 God dam but Dex had great legs.

“Guess I have something of yours then, huh?” Derek asked, gently nudging Dex’s foot.

“I think we should swap numbers and see’s who notices.” Dex grinned, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“Finally match all that 28 branded stuff you have.”

 Dex snorted, pulling his hand out of his pocket and handing over two Reese’s bars. “Thank you.” He said with such sincerity Derek could not stop himself smiling as he looked down at the candy, warmth swelling in his chest.

“S’okay, glad I could help. And that you’re okay.” He looked at Dex in the eye. “You in my jacket is thanks enough.”

 Dex flushed so red he nearly matched the jacket. “Nursey…”

“I was gonna go get some coffee and ignore how much my legs hurt. Wanna come? I’ll pay.”

The tiniest smile pulled at Dex’s mouth and he nodded. “If you’re paying.”

 

 

                                                                                            _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_ _X_  

 

**+1**

 

“I HAAAAVE THE GOOOODS!” Holster sang as he strode into Annie’s brandishing a copy of The Swallow: 50 Most Beautiful edition like it was a brand new Bill passed in the Senate, shoving at Ransom to get him to move so him and Lardo could squeeze on to the end of the bench.

“Hey Farmer, nice dress,”

“Oh thanks Lards, it’s from Old Navy. I’m such a mom I know.”

“Psh, you'd be like, a super hot mom. Oh nice that fabric is mad soft!”

“That’s why I bought it. Also, pockets!”

“Fuck off no way! Would they still have it?”

“Think so I got it start of summer.”

“I think Chowder is gonna pass out if you flirt with his girlfriend for much longer Lards.” Ransom said, pointing at C with his chin as he pushed Holsters coffee over to him.

“I am not! I can appreciate someone appreciating my girlfriend. Plus she is her own woman and has my absolute trust and so does Lardo.”

“You are so cute C you know that.” Derek drawled, grinning as he got a goalie glare shot at him across the table.

“You leave Chowder alone now ya’ hear. And especially you Derek Malik Nurse we gotta practise tomorrow not have another showdown between y’all. Now, where is Dex?” Bitty murmured, checking his phone again, smiling at a text that was obviously from Jack that he swiped away before anyone could try and read it.

“I messaged him and he said he’d come when he could, something’s come up at his dorm.”

“Aaayyyyyyy!” Holster and Cait chorused, fist bumping over the table.

“So does that mean we can start without?” Ransom asked Derek, hands hovering ready to get started. He had ten bucks that Jack would be in the top twenty even though he had graduated, Shitty had ten bucks he’d be top ten.

“Yeah man, he doesn’t really care that much anyway.”

“Saweeeet. And thus, we begin.”

 Number fifty always caused a lot of chatter about the very moral validity of ranking people based on something as arbitrary as good looks and how shallow it was in such a progressive place as Samwell. Then they all agreed people thrived on drama and celeb culture, that this was a campus wide bonding exercise, and went for it.

 One of Lardo’s art friends made number forty-five and she spend the next five minutes chirping them about it via whatsapp - which from her guffaws it seemed she was getting as good as she was giving. Two Chads from the LAX team were at thirty-eight and thirty-four which did not go down well. At. All. And then the whole table exploded when they realised the Will Poindexter at number seventeen was their Will Poindexter.

 He had one of the larger colour pictures on the page, not as big as the top ten or top five ones but clear enough to see how low the overalls were on his hips, to make out that he was smattered in freckles, the sold strength of his wide shoulders and upper arms, to see the grease on the suggestion of his abs.

“Where did they even get that picture?!” Holster almost shrieked, eyes nearly popping out of his head as he looked at it. “...Oh my God I can’t even look directly at him!”

“I take back all the chirps about you tripping over that time, Nursey.” C stage whispered across the table, everyone else in too much of a flap to pay any attention but Derek pulled a face at him anyway.

“What does it say?” Bitty asked, tugging on the paper to try and read it around Ransom.

 “ _ **William Poindexter**! 20! Sophmore!_ blah bah _Major_ blah blah blah _may have spotted him as #24 on Jack **ZIMMERMANN’S** frozen four finals team last year. To look at him in his hockey pads and the lumberjack vibing flannels he wears around campus you would not think he had a body that brought a street to a standstill when he helped out SMH joint-captain **JUSTIN OLURANSI** (number 4 last year)_ \- still a travesty!- _with his car troubles_...sounding a bit like a porno now this is embarrassing... _Instantly recognisable by his red hair and beautiful amber eyes he is known as much for his fiery personality off ice as on, but we all love a bad boy don’t we, especially now we know what’s hidden beneath_ ….Wow.” Holster lowered the paper. “WOW.”

 The whole nature of this was a little trashy and whoever wrote these was fully aware, edging closer and closer to parody every year, tongue firmly in cheek. For most people this was something you bragged about a bit, got teased about a lot, laughed off then on with your life- it’s what Derek had done last year- but for Dex, who hated being centre of attention and was so self conscious, and had a good few chips on both of his shoulders, that paragraph would be the worst.

 It also explained why the fuck he wasn’t here raving about Annie’s coffee with Ransom and eating enough bacon and blueberry pancakes to make Bitty look alarmed. “Oh fucking...” Derek shimmied and twisted and wiggled until he had his wallet out of his pocket and his backpack off the floor.

“Do think I should come too?” C asked, coming to the same as conclusion Derek that Dex had already seen this and had not taken to it too well, making to grab his bag from under the table.

“No, C, stay here. It’ll just make a huge deal out of it and we’ll both get yelled at.” Derek threw some bills on the table and half shuffled, half climbed over everyone to get out. “I’ll message if he doesn’t want to talk me, or to let you know what’s up. Or whatever.” He called as he hurried out of Annie’s and broke into a jog because he had class in an hour.

 Not because he was worried or anything.

 

 **Me**  
9:31  
Yo Dex you at your dorm?

 **Gingerbread boy**  
9:31  
Yeah still busy

 **Me**  
9:32  
Cool can lemme in then.

 

 Derek heard Dex’s groan from outside the door, smiling awkwardly at the guy coming out of the next room who shot him a funny look.

“S’open!”

 From the looks of his comforter Dex had been sprawled out across his bed before Derek arrived, now he was sat on the edge of the mattress with his long legs tucked up underneath him and his elbows on his knees, phone held loosely in his fingers. “Hey.”

“We missed you at Annie’s.”

“I didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of everyone.”

“So you’ve seen it?”

“Yep.” Dex sighed, popping the ‘p’ to make the word unusually sharp, pointing to his desk that had a face down copy of The Swallow on it. “Shoved under my door by the rower down the hall I think, letting me know I'm officially attractive now.”

“It’s not...the whole thing is mad embarrassing, but it’s not that bad babe. It gets out of people’s systems within like, a week.”

“Say’s you at number 5.”

“Oh shit I got fifth! No fucking way.” Nursey turned to the paper and flicked through it, cringing a little at the Insta photo they had used. It’s wasn’t terrible, he had posted it on the internet after all, but there was much better out there.

“How do you not know that?”

“Dude, I came straight here after Holtzy read out your blurb thing.”

“Really?”

 Derek let the paper drop and sat down heavily on Dex’s desk chair. “I know you’d hate this.”

 Dex was spinning his phone between his fingers and Derek saw that the skin around his nails was red and sore from where he had been picking at it, Dex noticing him looking and lay his phone on the bed so he could hide his hands in his sweater.

 He wanted to catch up those clever, precious hands in his own and cradle them close to his heart so no harm could come to them. They had been on dates, Derek could do that now, but knowing Dex meant he knew that right now he shouldn’t. “I do. I really do.”

“I bet the LAX bros were taking pictures…”

“I don’t give a fuck about that. It’s done now.” He was wearing the soft blue sweater Nursey had leant him after dumping milk on him, had never given it back, and he went from fiddling with the hem to shoving the sleeves up to his elbows in agitation. “I should have known something was up when the girls asked me to look at their car, no-one wants anything to do with me even when I’m being useful.”

“Babe you know that’s not true.”

“Yeah? Then why did they have to make it crystal fucking clear I only made it on that list ‘cause I took my shirt off?”

“Partial nudity always helps bro.” Nursey shrugged, “S’why I used to lose so many tops at parties.”

“Oh great, thanks Nursey.” Dex spat

“What!” Nothing. “Dexalicious? What?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What??”

“They only care cause I stripped off and got dirt all over me and now it’s gonna... I know my body doesn’t match my face. I didn’t care when no-one...” He swallowed. “...it’s not that I’m not flattered, but Ransom never has to strip to make the list every year. Not that I even want to be on this fucking list! No one looked at me twice before then.”

 He had not said it, would never say it because although Dex had a stick up his ass and a truly explosive temper he was never cruel, and hearing Dex say Derek only asked him out because of what was under his clothes would hurt. But just because he did not say it did not mean he hadn’t meant it.

“I didn’t.” Nursey blurted out, shoving several feet in his mouth as Dex looked at him sharply, hurt clear in his eyes.

“Why would you.”

“No. I meant I cared. Before. When you weren’t sexy mechanic Will Poindexter, when you were just Dex.” Nursey felt his face softening and let it, let himself gaze at Dex who looked like he didn’t know what expression his face should have. “I saw you once, at Faber after practice when you were skating off the ice. Bro I thought you were so fucking pretty...Are so fucking pretty.”

“What?”

“An’ I knew you by then, this wasn’t some magical at first sight thing. I knew you were really fucking annoying but I looked at you this one time and I was like ‘ho shit’. Like, I’m annoying too I guess? So I can’t complain. And you’ve, like, mellowed as I got to know you and...you had me shook way before the campus even paid attention.” Derek grinned. “I found you hot before it was cool.”

“You’re even less funny now you’re self aware.”

“I stacked on the pavement and had Ransom dig dirt out of my hands ‘cause of you! Not ‘cause I was shocked that Dex was suddenly hot and all that ‘ish, I knew that already, you just hit me with it all at once when I least expected it.” Dex, who had been flushed the whole time, went even more red. “Even when you look like you lost a fight at the red paint factory you’re cute.”

“Fuck you.”

“Ah ah, you’re not luring me into that one.”

 Dex opened his mouth to reply then his brain caught up, spluttering for a moment before his mouth snapped closed, the both of them sitting in an awkward silence for so long it became really awkward.

“Yeah so.” Derek started, picking at a loose thread at the artful rip in his jeans as he tried to look everywhere but at Dex, finding it a lot harder than usual. “Didn’t mean to make it weird.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? Before?”

“Uhh, do you even know you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean!”

“You don’t come across as the most receptive to someone telling you they think you’re really cute and that after hours of sitting there just looking at you like a fucking stalker I’m still not over your face.” Derek gave him a long look, letting his eyes trail over his cute nose and the sweep of his soft red hair, his eyes, his sticky-out ears that Derek adored just a little bit. “I can’t believe you don’t know what you look like.”

“I don’t think what you see is what everyone else does.”

“Don’t give a fuck about them that’s their problem, babe. You’re my problem and it’s a pretty fucking big one.”

“Oh God you haven’t jacked it to me have you?”

 It was Derek’s turn to blush, knowing from how hot his face was that he was not dark enough to hide this one. “It felt creepy, ‘cause I didn’t have your permission and that felt important.”

“I mean, you can if you want. We’re going on dates now and stuff.” Dex shrugged, shoulders curling in on themselves.

“Rather have you be my boyfriend tbh.”

“Stop doing that.”

“What?”

“You know what you did.”

“S’who I am baby, take it or leave it.” Derek grinned at Dex casually, grinning wider when he rolled his eyes.

“Fine.”

“Sweet...wait what’s fine? What kind of fine?”

 The smile on Dex’s face was so soft and sweet Derek would have done anything for him. “Being your boyfriend is fine. I’m not gonna start a sin bin war with you.”

“You really wanna be in a relationship with me?” Derek asked, feeling a little starry eyed when Dex nodded wordlessly. He had been prepared to have to be patient, to have to tread carefully to have Dex to want to be with him officially and that it had been so easy as to ask threw him. “Wow.”

“Okay Chowder calm down.” Dex chirped, looking unrepentant if a little nervous. “I’m not anything to wow at.”

“Dex, bro. Honestly?”

“You could have anyone and those kinds of people don’t really go for,” Dex waved a hand at his face, “you know.”

 Derek rolled the chair across the room to cup Dex’s hands gently in his own, ducking down to press a kiss to the boney bumps of his knuckles. “I don’t fucking care what other people do. I am one of a kind.” Dex snorted. “I am! And when my heart shouted for you I had never been so glad.”

 Dex went bright red. Shockingly red, squirming a little under Derek’s unwavering gaze. “So uh...?” He muttered quietly, licking his bottom lip suggestively and Derek was on his feet in a heartbeat, Dex shooting up to join him.

 He gently wrapped his hands around Dex’s warm neck, rubbing his thumbs over the soft skin on his jawline, looking Dex in the eye as his fingers tangled in his top. “You have no idea.” Derek whispered, knocking their noses gently before slotting their mouths together.

 Derek could never hope to write poetry about this, wouldn’t even try because it would take decades to be able to give this feeling form enough to turn it into words, would never want to share with the world how Dex pushed up against his lips, the hint of an invitation in the way he let Derek slot his body against his, wanted to keep the little sigh he made against his mouth bottled up and pressed against his heart.

 Dex’s eyelids were heavy over his golden eyes when Derek pulled away to look at him, lips pink and soft, swaying slightly like he was almost going to chase Derek’s lips. “You ever been kissed like that before Dexy?” He asked on a hunch, running his nose along Dex’s when he gave a small shake of his head. “Then I’ll have to work up to letting you experience my honed skills.”

 Dex’s expression didn’t change as he gave Derek a firm shove to the chest that probably would have knocked him on his ass if he wasn’t a D-man. “I hate that I like you so much. Really hate it.” He grumbled, holding his hand out to Derek who took it, stepping in to slip his arm around Dex’s waist.

“I accepted ages ago you’ll drive me grey early.” Derek said, watching Dex’s eyes flick over his face. He hated people looking at him closely, always worried that if people looked too hard they would realise he wasn’t really hot, not like Ransom who glowed with natural, perfect handsomeness. They would realise his features were too heavy and his eyes too pale for his skin colour, they’d notice his lips weren’t even and the faint scar on his forehead from falling over while skiing a couple of years ago.

 Dex raised his free hand and ran his fingertips carefully through the short hair at the side of Derek’s head, holding Derek’s gaze as he pressed his cheek into Dex’s warm, rough palm. “You should thank me, you’ll look daddy as fuck.” Derek snorted. “No you will. Really will if you keep reading in the half light trying to be all dramatic and shit.”

“Oh my godddddd, been my boyfriend two minutes and you’re nagging me!”

“Fucking right I am, I want you to see what I’m spending all your trust fund on. Why are you laughing I’m serious? A student magazine says I’m hot I know I’m arm candy. Don’t...kissing me won’t make me sign any prenups either. I’m looking forward to a life of hosting and sitting on charity boards. Is there a Real Housewives of Upper West Side?”

“I hate you so much.”

“Eh. You still wanna kiss me.”

 He had a point, so Derek did.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come on over and say HI on my [ tumblr ](http://grandpianopossessed.tumblr.com/)


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